The Crow
by Death-Sorcoress
Summary: One night raven goes out side to get some fresh air but finds something better.


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Cartoons » Teen Titans » **Sanctus** B s : A A A Author: Fragilest Solace 1. Ch 1: Dulce et Decorum est2. Ch 2: O vos Omnes!3. Ch 3: A Doll in Nessus4. HiatusFiction Rated: T - English - Romance/Angst - Reviews: 37 - Published: 10-07-04 - Updated: 10-25-04 id:2085264 

**Sanctus**

Trigon's influence over Raven finally takes over, and becomes his evil daughter. The titans, especially Robin, swear to bring her back. (RaRo)

**D: I don't own Teen Titans... or the Poem Dulce et Decorum Est. sobs**

The story will be told by and around the characters' POV's.

Dusk approached gradually on a crisp October day. Shades of yellow were appearing in the trees, and the light scent of cinnamon spread across the town. Jump City celebrated anything it could to the fullest, and Halloween, the day of the dead, was no exception. Shops and houses had poorly stretched cotton taped to windows, while paper skeletons and witches occupied front yards and gardens. A group of misfits took it upon themselves to decorate for their neighbors, for toilet paper hung from trees and rooftops and sticky yolk slid down doors. It wasn't even the 30th yet and ill-mannered pre-teens had already begun to wreck havoc.

Titans tower stood proudly on its island. Inside it, a teenage boy, with his eyes delicately concealed with a thin-filmed mask, trained until his muscles ached. He desired to become faster. Stronger. Anything to defeat any threat against him and his friends. The boy wonder known as Robin wiped the sweat off his brow with his glove and called it a day. His stomach was growling violently, and decided to stop by the kitchen for a healthy snack like pizza oozing with greasy cheese.

Robin entered the main living area of the tower. Cyborg and Beast boy were engaging in a ferocious battle of Mega Monkeys Four and Starfire was cheering her comrades on. He scanned the room for the remaining titan, and when he noticed she was absent, he shrugged it off and thought nothing of it.

"Must be meditating somewhere," he muttered, turning around towards the kitchen.

He couldn't help but think back to that one day where she entered his mind for the first time.

----  
_Robin had been envisioning Slade in dark areas, and his arch-nemesis felt so real--he must have been, especially to be able to cause such massive physical harm to him. While on the prowl for him in the tower, he heard her voice fill his head._

"Robin, your heart," she said, with a slightly worried tone in her voice. Raven? Worried? About me? He needed the cloaked girl out of his mind. She'd be in danger if she stayed in there any longer. But she persisted. She truly wanted to help. Relaxing, Robin let Raven see everything. He let her see the death of his parents through his eyes. He let her see himself being sweared in as Robin, Batman's sidekick. He let her see the depth of his hate towards Slade. While reassuring him, Slade attacked. Raven was forced out of his mind with the impact of that over pumped fist to his head. He didn't care how he was. All he cared about at the moment was Raven. Was she okay? Was she hurt? The thought was pushed aside as his own safety became the priority.  
---

Robin opened the refrigerator door and looked inside. He let out a sigh of relief seeing the cardboard pizza box sit snugly in-between Beast boy's Tofu burger patties and Starfire's what-cha-ma-call-it. He snatched the box out of the ice box and set it on the counter. He turned to the cupboard and pulled out a plate, and then he plopped three slices of cheese pizza on it. They didn't all fit, so he arranged them by having the pizza in the middle overlap the two on its side. Carefully he placed his meal in the microwave and set the timer for a minute and a half.

"You cheated!"

"Did not!"

"Yeah you did. You did some weird machine-y thing and since you're both electric-y you cheated!"

"What? You're not making any sense!"

"Whatever, Dude! Rematch, Now."

"You're on, ya little grass stain."

Boy wonder sighed. 'They've been at it since they turned that game on. What was so great about Mega Monkeys Four, anyway?' Robin's thoughts were interrupted when a door opened and the cloaked girl walked into the living area. Raven had her hood down, her neatly cropped violet hair showing. She was clutching a black book, her latest literary interest: war poetry. She set the book down on the counter and made her way passed the brightly colored hero.

"Evening," she droned, while reaching for the tea kettle.

"Evening, Raven," he smiled. "Mind if I have a look at your book while my pizza heats up?"

"Knock yourself out." Slight clinging and clanging noises were heard as she placed the kettle on the stove top and her mug on the counter.

Robin reached for her book and flipped through it. One poem caught is eye, entitled _Dulce et Decorum Est_ by a man named Wilfred Owen. Robin sifted through his mind, trying his best to translate the title. 'Sweet and honorable it is,' he noted. 'Never thought Raven to be the patriotic type.'

'When you assume you make an ass out of you and me,' thought Robin as he finished the poem. The excruciating detail Owen wrote made his stomach flip over. The microwave beeped, and all of a sudden, he didn't feel as hungry as he was a minute ago. He placed the book back on the counter, not wanting to completely destroy his appetite by reading more. Raven, as if knowing the exact poem he read, smirked and sipped her now-made tea.

"Very, uhm, descriptive stuff. Big eye-opener," he said removing his dinner from the heat box. She nodded in agreement while the masked boy tore into his meal.

Right before he started attacking the third slice, he noticed Raven was still with him sipping her tea. While she was distracted, he finally had a good look at her. Exotic and mysterious, she was, but something seemed amiss. Her amethyst eyes, those were normal. Her chakra gleamed under the fluorescent lighting. Not a single hair out of place. He peered closer and noticed bags under her eyes. Her lips separated from the mug as she let out a small yawn.

"Raven, are you alright?"

"Peachy."

"No, I mean are you feeling okay? You seem a bit.. tired."

Raven closed her eyes and sighed. Robin thought she was having an internal debate on what to respond, but instead she turned around, rinsed out her cup, and strode passed him.

"I'll be on the roof."

The great boy detective instantly picked up on her tone. It was an invitation. 'She must have wanted to discuss this in private.'

Wondering what could be bothering the reclusive mystic, he made his way to the rooftop, leaving three pizza crusts behind.

How is it:O Is it alright? If I get a few positive reviews I'll go ahead and continue. Here's the poem that Robin read. Dulce et Decorum est pro patria mori translates to Sweet and honorable it is to die for your country.

Wilfred Owen  
_Dulce et Decorum est  
_  
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,  
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,  
Til on the haunting flares we turned our backs  
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.  
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots  
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;  
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots  
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling,  
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;  
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling  
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...  
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,  
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,  
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace  
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,  
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,  
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;  
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood  
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,  
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud  
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -  
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest  
To children ardent for some desperate glory,  
The old Lie: _Dulce et decorum est  
Pro patria mori._

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